her pink peignoir. 'But I haven't met a Frank… and I wouldn't try to steal a Frank even if I could. So, for me it's right the way I am.' She tiptoed out into the night.
Alone in the cabana, Frank clutched his wife tightly and nibbled sensuously at the soft tissue of her earlobe. 'You set me up!' he accused. 'You knew what that noise was in the kitchen all the time.'
Jennifer's slim figure was cemented fiercely to his. 'Guilty.' Her mound was restless against his and he lay unresponsive, letting the sexuality of her smooth satiny feel get to him. The memory of the kitchen and the play that erupted in this cabana tortured him to a freshening erection.
She felt his stiffening flesh and trapped it mischievously between warm thighs, forcing the burgeoning cock to stay motionless while it ballooned. 'Want to take it to her?' she cooed. 'I won't stop you. We promised way back when we were girls what belongs to one, belongs to the other.'
Frank's answer was in the arching of his body against the vise of her thighs, kneeing an opening between her legs and stuffing his phallus almost brutishly into Jennifer's snug vagina.
'Doesn't work that way, baby, and you know it,' he murmured softly as their coital rhythm began. 'I'd like to fuck hell out of both of you… tonight… tomorrow… every day. Hell, yes, I admit it!'
'So, maybe you ought to while she's here.'
'That's what I mean by female smartass talk!' His buttocks cheeks tensed as he ground impatiently against the cuddly form under him. 'She's not up for grabs.'
Jennifer, rocking in the slow familiar copulation pattern she loved to use to protract their intercourse, kissed him impulsively. 'You saw what most men don't,' she whispered. 'She's in a world her talent has her locked into. She looks like everyman's dream of mistress and plenty have tried.'
'But she does love it,' interjected Frank. 'She loves it every way. With you as much as with me.'
'And she chose it.' Jennifer was pumping now in the spell of the indriven organ, rapidly losing control to runaway passion.
'You chose, baby. Glad?' growled her man.
'Ohhhh, Frank… Frank… my beautiful ohhhh, yes!'
CHAPTER FOUR
The double-tiered bus, Charter Special from the Baltimore game, was an hour out of destination when Pammy Pritchard made her move. Everyone of the football team and the cheerleader squad was obviously zonked from the two hundred mile ride back from defeat.
'Just want to ask my neighbor, Bryan Quinby, something,' Pammy whispered in Coach Jeff Taylor's ear, pausing by his seat.
'Okay, Pam. But don't wake the others.' Taylor had his suspicions, but it was no time to enforce a separation that kept the males on the bus's lower level and girls on the top tier. Despair over the game loss was too great to get sticky about playing chaperone. Coaching was his job and at the moment Jeff Taylor felt pretty much the half- assed coach. They should have beaten the Terriers, if he'd done his job.
Pammy couldn't care less about the loss of the football game. What bugged her and had since the day in the barn, was that her mother really meant it about Bryan. He was not to be the sexual plaything for herself and Sandy. Mommy had been adamant. It was okay for the twins to get him hot and bothered and okay for Mommy to give him cute little shows with her bedroom drapes open, or the bathroom venetians forgotten, but no more real fun and games. So they turned him into a kinky freak. As far as her mother was concerned, that was his problem. Bryan had served its purpose of studding the girls' sex education.
It wasn't how Pammy saw it, even if twin Sandy agreed. Bryan was a human being. Bryan could never mess up their lives by ratting anything about sex between them. He was a nice guy, maybe a little gullible, but at fifteen he had a right. And he had more. He had a beautiful bod and an unforgettable cock. Even as she walked toward the back of the bus where he slept, Pammy felt the goose bumps of excitement remembering.
A little sigh of relief escaped when she saw he was seated where she guessed he'd be. Two rows away from any of the other footballers. He was a frosh, the only ninth grader on the varsity, and the older guys hadn't accepted him. After his fumble today at the big moment when he could have won the game, he'd really be down. It was Pammy's big chance. Sandy hadn't wakened when she slipped from their seat and she knew Coach Taylor wouldn't come to check them out.
'Bryan?'
He was a dark shadow in the blacked-out rear of the bus and he was either asleep or not up for a visit from his neighbor.
'You played very well, Bryan.'
'Uggghllll… sure.' The figure stirred, proving it was alive.
'I mean it.' She slipped into the empty seat beside him. 'So you dropped one football. There were three other fumbles, besides yours.'
'Yeah, and mine lost the game.'
She rode in silence beside him, studying the way the telephone poles stormed past the bus windows and recognizing lights in the little town they were passing through. Forty-five minutes from home. If she was going to make a bid for play, it was now or never.
'I don't like Mommy's rule, Bryan,' she whispered, curling toward him and resting her head on his shoulder.
He grunted and shifted to make the fit more comfy. Good sign, thought Pammy. At least he wasn't throwing her out. The last poles with lights were passing as they left Wetherwood and the glow through the window gave her the glimpse she'd hoped to see. Bryan was mounting a hard-on against his slacks and there was nothing to stop her, once they were back out on the country road.
Her hand crept boldly to his lap as the bus went totally dark and she found the zipper lock quickly. His fingers were fierce at the back of her hand, then abruptly limp. He was hers!
With quick deft strokes she brought him to a head and with a bored sigh as she tongued into his ear, she whispered, 'Want me to do what you do for yourself?'
'Huh!' He stiffened resentfully at the accusation.
'I mean, I hope you do. All three of us hope so. Least that's why we give you a show most every night from Mommy's bedroom.'
'So, why'd you quit?'
Pammy giggled. 'Because you have all that big name company. Bet you wish you could be sleeping in your bedroom while she's stayin' with you.'
'Maybe I'm doin' just that.'
'Huhunnnh. We saw where they dumped you. You're all by your lonesome down in the TV den. Who do you dream about, Bryan? Us next door or your pretty Celeste?'
'Shut up,' he groaned, slapping her hand away from its play with his cock. 'You're not going to sucker me to be a fall guy again!'
He hunched over against the window and dragged angrily at his zipper to close his fly, but the twist of his slacks kept the zipper separated. Frustrated by his wants and his lack of courage to dare with this cockteaser, he pulled the pillow partly over his head and pretended to sleep.
Pammy let him alone for fully two minutes; just long enough to make him think she had given up. Then she reached across his hip. Long, warm and trembling hard, the penis jutted across her palm. This time she said nothing. Simply clasped the shaft, but held her fingers motionless while her eyes accustomed to the darkness in the seat well. By the time she could make out the cock's white gleam against the shadowy black, Bryan's need was fierce. Pammy could feel a slight involuntary pulsing at his hips to the demand his prick was sending, to every erotic pore of his body.
Tilting the needy barrel backward toward her pursed lips, Pammy tongued the ballooning cap lushly and slowly.
She heard a moan stifle in his throat and felt his pelvic muscles urge in response to the licking. With a delighted under-her-breath cry, she took the thunderous glans fully into her lips and began to milk the spongy
